


tired of trying to be somebody different than me

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn wakes up a month after the Starkiller incident and has to figure out what to do with his life and how he feels about Poe. Possibly not in that order.<br/>Major Force Awakens spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tired of trying to be somebody different than me

**Author's Note:**

> There are major spoilers for some important things that happen in Force Awakens. If you read this and you haven't seen the movie, you can't say I didn't warn you. But I recommend against it.

It wasn’t that the First Order didn’t have the technology to keep someone alive in a coma for an extended period of time. It’s that they chose not to. And yet, a month after falling unconscious with his spine sliced open by a lightsaber, FN-2187 woke up.

Except he wasn’t FN-2187 anymore. He was Finn, and he was alive. They kept him alive. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He knew, theoretically, that life could be different from life under the First Order. He’d known that before he left, and he’d known that when he’d risked everything to help that pilot escape. Poe. That was his name. Poe had named him Finn. Finn didn’t know how to feel about that, either.

But knowing was one thing, and experiencing it for himself was another. He’d left because staying was unbearable, but he couldn’t imagine what anything else might be like, beyond vague ideas like ‘independence’ and ‘not having to kill people just because someone else told you to.’ He hadn’t been able to imagine a place where they kept you alive instead of letting you die as soon as you were no longer useful.

He sat up in the bed where he had apparently spent the last month, and the nurse was kind enough to not notice him crying. That was one thing those helmets were good for. No one could tell what you were doing with your face, so no one could ever comment on it. That was the only thing those helmets had been good for, besides basic protection in combat. But in a way, they were also why he left. In that first battle, someone had died in his arms, left their mark on his mind as they left their mark in blood across his helmet. Someone he had fought beside, lived beside, for long enough that he should have known them. But he didn’t. Someone died in his arms and he never even saw their face. They were interchangeable, identical to him and to every other Stormtrooper who lived and fought and died together, and when one died they were immediately replaced by another, without ceremony, without tears. You didn’t mourn over a broken machine part, you threw it out and replaced it, and he would die too, soon if he couldn’t find a way to harden his heart to the killing and dying, and no one would even notice he was gone.

But here they had kept him alive. Here, they only wore helmets in combat, and even then you could see part of their face. Here, he was someone, even though he still felt like no one. He was awake, but he still didn’t know where to go. He had no purpose now, with Rey gone and the fighting calmed down in the aftermath of the Starkiller. Everyone else seemed busy, he could hear them rushing around outside, but he didn’t know what to do, and the nurse wasn’t helping.

“You’ll have to check back with us in a week, to make sure everything is fine, but you can leave the infirmary.”

“But where do I go?”

“Maybe you should talk to General Organa,” said the nurse. “She’ll know what to do.”

 

General Organa was busy, as was everyone who ran in and out of the command center, relaying orders and walking rapidly and intently to wherever they were going. But she smiled when she saw him, and said, “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered.” It was the smile that confused him most. Why should she smile at him, when he had failed to bring her husband back? “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do next?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You’re welcome to stay here, of course. You’re adaptive, resourceful. The Resistance could use someone like you. But if you want to leave, we can probably give you enough to get yourself set up on a planet with plenty of opportunities and no ties to the First Order.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He wasn’t prepared to make decisions like this. “Can I think about it?”

“Take as much time as you need,” she said. “At some point Rey will come back, and she might like your help with whatever quest her Jedi training sets her on, but it’s up to you, and until then you’re welcome to stay.”

It was all too much to take in at once, especially when he had just woken up. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” she said, “for all you’ve done for us. And if I may make a suggestion, before you make any decisions, you might want to see Poe. He’s probably out fussing with the engine on his ship. He was very concerned about you, very anxious that you woke up.”

 

He took her advice and set off to look for Poe. This was something he could do for himself, something that he wouldn’t have been able to do in his old life, something he probably wouldn’t have even thought of. As he went, he couldn’t help but think about how different it all was. Everyone was dressed differently, and you could see their faces. The effect was a little overwhelming, and he was glad when he reached the mostly-empty hangar.

Poe was concentrating deeply on his work and didn’t look up as Finn walked closer. His back was toward Finn, but he could see his hands, smudged with grease and whatever else could stain one’s hand if one stuck them in the bowels of a spaceship, as he removed some part of his ship. He had nice hands, Finn thought, and he wondered how it would feel to hold them.

When Poe finally turned around and saw Finn, his face softened and split into a bright smile. “Finn! You’re awake!” He took a few steps toward him and then said, “I’m almost done with these repairs. Want to help me finish up, and then after we can get something to eat? Are you hungry? Unless you have somewhere else to be. Then don’t let me keep you.”

“No, that would be fine,” said Finn. “What do you need me to do?”

“I just need to reattach the coolant hose to the… just hand me this when I ask you to, okay? It’s hard to do this with one hand.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Finn watched Poe work, but it wasn’t long until he asked for the missing part. As he handed it over, their hands brushed together, and Poe glanced up and met his eyes. Finn coughed and looked away, and Poe finished what he was doing and then said, “There. Done. Want to go back to the base?”

“Can we stay here? I haven’t gotten to talk to you since…”

“Sure,” Poe said, “What’s up?”

“I never really got to thank you,” said Finn. “For, well, just about everything, I guess.”

Poe laughed. He had a nice laugh, too. “You saved my life, I think we’re even. Are you staying here?”

“For now,” Finn said. “I don’t know. It’s weird, having all these choices. What are you planning on doing?”

“Whatever the Resistance needs me to do,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll probably be here for a while, since the fighting’s died down, until they need something else brought back from a remote corner of the galaxy.” He paused, then said, “You could probably come with me, next time. Clearly, I could use backup.”

“I’d like that,” said Finn. “And when Rey comes back, I’ll probably go with her.” He smiled, thinking about Rey. He wished she were here, now. She always seemed to know what she was doing, even if she didn’t.

“So I guess you’ve heard about her going to find Luke Skywalker and become a Jedi?” He said it like he couldn’t really believe it. “Everyone’s been talking about what she did on Starkiller, fighting Kylo Ren and winning. It must’ve been amazing to see.”

“Must’ve been,” said Finn. “I was unconscious most of the time. But she’s amazing.” There was a strange look on Poe’s face, almost like disappointment. “Are you and Rey…”

“Are we what?”

“Together,” Poe said, then looked away. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. Forget I said anything.”

But Finn didn’t want to forget that. He wanted it to mean what he thought it meant. “That’s not how we are,” he said. It was very important to him that Poe understood. “She doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“But do you have feelings for her?”

“I think I did,” said Finn. “When I first met her. Now I’m just really glad we’re friends. But when I first saw her, she was strong and… free, everything I wish I could be. She has a purpose, she isn’t afraid, or if she is she doesn’t let it control her. And she looked at me like I was someone, the first time anyone had ever made me feel like I could be more. She made me want to be more.” Finn was afraid that he wasn’t saying what he meant to say, but he kept going. Being a Stormtrooper didn’t exactly give him the opportunity to get any practice at talking about feelings. “Even you, at first, you only saw your chance to escape. To be fair, that was also how I saw you.”

“At first,” said Poe quickly. “Only for those first few moments. Not anymore.”

“The general said you were worried about me, when I didn’t wake up.”

“I couldn’t stand it, thinking that you were dead. We’d won, we’d survived against impossible odds, and it would have felt like a defeat anyway if you had died. It was bad enough, when I thought I’d lost you once.”

“You barely knew me,” said Finn, even though he knew what Poe was saying. He’d felt the same, when he thought Poe had been in the ship when it had been swallowed by the sands of Jakku. As if something had been torn out of his chest.

Poe shrugged. “I know. And yet, that’s how I felt. How I feel.”

“I know,” said Finn. “Me too.” He reached for Poe’s hand, and Poe laid his other hand gently on his back, running his fingers up the split in the leather where Ren’s lightsaber had cut through.

“You’re still wearing my jacket.”

“It reminds me of you,” said Finn. “Also, I don’t exactly have any other clothes.”

“If we’re dating you can borrow mine,” said Poe, smiling and leaning closer, so that their foreheads were touching.

“If?” said Finn.

“I wasn’t sure,” said Poe. “I wanted to leave that up to you.”

Finn didn’t know how to be someone who knew how to have relationships, who knew what it meant that he cared this much about someone else, but he wanted to learn. He leaned the rest of the way to close the distance between them, his lips finding Poe’s, hesitantly at first, and then Poe, who probably actually knew what he was doing, slid his hand to the back of Finn’s neck and kissed him more deeply and forcefully. When they broke apart, breathless, Finn said, “Does that answer your question?”

“Does this answer yours?” said Poe, kissing him again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired largely by a conversation I had with my suitemate in the middle of the night, so you have them to thank for this.  
> Title is from Date Line by Yellowcard.


End file.
